Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 105183 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 526(@200wpm)___ 421(@250wpm)___ 351(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105183 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 526(@200wpm)___ 421(@250wpm)___ 351(@300wpm)
Jude skids to a stop, breathless too, but at least his fucking feet won’t be cut to shreds. Furious, I march back to him, enduring the pain, and slam my palm into his hard chest, thrusting him back. He has a whole foot over me as I look up at him.
“This has to stop now.” I find my breath, or at least try to. Around Jude Harrison, that seems impossible. Calm. Give me calm! “No more, Jude.” I walk away, gritting my teeth to endure the pain in my feet. And oddly, a pain somewhere unexpected.
In my fucking chest.
What the hell is that?
I make it to the door and wrench it open, and he catches it before it closes, doing the exact opposite of what I’ve asked, as per usual. He follows me through the glass tunnel, past reception, through the spa area, and into the changing rooms. I pretend he’s not there. It’s the only way. If fucking impossible. I pull my bag out of a locker, throw it onto my shoulder, and leave again, pushing past him, ignoring the surge of electricity that flies through my body each time I touch him. It’s anger.
Not chemistry.
But I don’t make it out the door. He pulls me back, puts me in front of him, takes my bag from my shoulder, and throws it to the floor.
“You think I’m playing a game?” he asks tightly.
I look up into his eyes.
And drown.
Everything inside tingles with want. With need. I’ve never known desire like this. I’ve never wanted something so badly. I’m trying so hard to push back these unanticipated feelings and failing at every turn.
His lips part, his eyes smoke.
My thighs clench. My breasts become achy.
“Why are you making this so fucking difficult?” he asks.
I inhale.
Swallow.
Shake my head.
“Amelia,” he whispers, coming closer. “Give in to it.”
I look down, searching my head for words to speak and instructions to follow. It scares me so much, my lack of sense around him. My powerlessness. My inability to do the sensible thing. How he consumes my head, how my body responds to him.
“No,” I whisper.
“Why?”
“Because I don’t want this.”
“Bullshit.”
“I don’t want this,” I repeat. “I don’t want this, I don’t want this.”
“Bull-fucking-shit, Amelia!”
My lack of control fails me again. Fatal. I look up at him, our breathlessness loud. My mind is screaming conflicting things at me.
Kiss him.
Don’t!
Walk away!
But again, I have never felt a craving so acute. Like if I don’t kiss him, I’ll die here and now.
Jude stares at me, waiting, his eyes on the greener side of teal, something swirling in their depths. “Just let it happen,” he whispers.
Let it happen.
Because this chemistry and attraction is stronger than me.
“Let it happen,” he breathes, his lips moving slowly.
I lose my internal battle and move into his body, pulling his mouth down to mine, our lips colliding on a whimper of pleasure and desperation. He catches me around the waist and staggers back, hitting the wall with force. “Fuck,” he gasps, opening up to me instantly, his tongue meeting mine, soft and hot. My kiss is forceful, full of frustration, and at the same time, full of relief. Desire travels through me like wildfire, reaching between my legs. My body starts to throb. He tastes unbelievable. Feels incredible. His scent engulfs me—oud and musk, and my mind blanks. Nothing exists, only need. A need I’m terrified is so strong, my attraction so potent, I might not ever quench it. And this kiss is only affirming what I’ve been afraid of.
Perfection.
One hand on his cheek, the other on his neck, I pull him closer, and he moans, moving his hands from my hair, his shoulders hunching as he holds my face and kisses me like every woman should be kissed, with passion and purpose. Like they’re owned.
Then he rolls us so it’s me now pinned to the wall, the full length of his hard body pressing into mine, his mouth and tongue relentless.
Our first kiss. It’s fuelled by anger. It’s fucking electric. Everything I never allowed myself to believe it would be. Consuming. Mind-blanking.
Another step over the line into dangerous territory.
Proof that Jude Harrison fucks with my sensibility. Makes the intelligent part of me malfunction.
No!
I rip my lips away from his and push my palms into his chest, forcing him back. Heaving. “There,” I gasp, scrambling for my sense. “You’ve got what you wanted.”
His eyes widen in disbelief, and he steps back and laughs, roughly wiping his wet mouth. “Are you fucking with me?”
“I’m n—”
He comes back at me, kissing me hard, owning me, and I’m a puppet again, succumbing to the power. Strong, large hands reach for the backs of my thighs, and he hauls me up his tall body. A loud rip sounds—my dress, but it doesn’t stop me. Not this time.
“You drive me fucking insane,” he growls, sweeping his tongue through my mouth, biting my lip, before plunging deeply again. My arms naturally circle his shoulders, pulling him closer, my mouth accepting his.